


One More Time For Second Chances

by killingmonsterswritingthings



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Developing Relationship, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, Relationship Negotiation, at least Black Sails Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingmonsterswritingthings/pseuds/killingmonsterswritingthings
Summary: After finding Thomas again, and getting a life away from Nassau, James finds that he misses Silver. So Thomas encourages him, and James finally confronts what he has known - and felt - all along. The only issue is getting Silver to see it, too.





	One More Time For Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> i finally _finally_ finished this after 2 months and countless exams and falling out of love with it in the middle  
>  once i broke the 8k mark i was like "well, this is gonna be long, so i might as well make it self-indulgent af"
> 
> (also having to tag james as captain flint was downright PAINFUL but i think i've grown attached after writing this for so long)
> 
> anyway, have fun with this

 

James only slowly came to the realisation that he missed Silver.

Thomas and he had gotten out of that wretched place as soon as possible and then acquired and settled on a little farm a good ways out of Savannah, far enough away from their respective prisons. But even though James had been able to settle down, was able to see Thomas every day, could finally forget about the war he had started for him, his mind would not stop thinking about it.

He confessed this to Thomas one day while they were working side by side. They had a few people to help with the trees and fields during harvest but James enjoyed working himself. It gave him something to do, a purpose. And the physical labour usually exhausted him enough to calm him, to escape all the thoughts – but today they would not let him rest, only festering even more under the afternoon sun.

“No matter what I do, I cannot escape it,” he said. “I did what I had to do, back then, and now, and I thought I would find peace eventually but...” He shook his head, not sure of his next words. “My thoughts keep returning to him.”

Thomas looked up at him, paused in his work and leaned on his rake. James wondered if he had said too much. That first night back together Thomas had told him that he didn’t have to pretend with him, that he would take James back with all his flaws, all the mistakes he had made, all the atrocities he had committed and all the thoughts that came with them. Still, James was careful when it came to talking about Silver.

But after a moment Thomas said: “Think about it. All that time you spent together, growing closer. He was the only one left who stood up to you, who even managed to get through to you, the only one who made all of this possible...” He made a motion indicating the circumference of their farm. “It’s because you love him, James.”

And it all fell into place.

James had never even considered that. He had been too consumed with his grief, his mission, his revenge, that he had never stopped to evaluate his feelings. He had spent so many years on the run and in denial. Sure, he had recognised the attraction he had felt for Silver, but then he had refused to stray anywhere beyond friendship, once he had reluctantly arrived there.

He had been in too much pain, and he had been insistent on hating Silver for so long. He had been an annoyance at first, an obstacle that he needed removed – and Silver _himself_ had wanted to leave. But it had shifted over the course of those years together and James had never stopped to think about it.

“I didn’t realise...” he said, more to himself than to Thomas. Thomas hummed in recognition and picked his work back up, as if nothing had happened. He gave no verbal indication of what he thought about this revelation, but if the slight smile on his face was any hint, he was pleased with himself for discovering it.

  


“Does it bother you?”, James asked, later, after the silence had stretched on for a while.

“Why would it?” Thomas asked. “We both loved Miranda. It’s nothing new, or wrong. You spent so much time with him, you supported each other, and you grew close. It’s only natural.”

It took James a moment to realise what he was feeling beyond the deep pit in guts filled with sadness – always there, a constant reminder of what had happened, what he had done. It was _gratitude_ , and the unconditional love that came with being with someone who understood him so completely. Even after all of this.

  


  


He wondered if Silver’s words about waiting also applied here. If he would wait for him to reach out, if time would help them to find back to each other or if it would make the rift even bigger. Their friendship – their partnership – had been built on shaky ground from the beginning, but they had grown incredibly close in the process, so James wondered if the foundation might still be there.

He had been angry at first, but his anger had passed the moment he had seen Thomas. All his reason to fight had been stripped away in that instant, but deep down at his core he was still the person who had geared up to fight a war that could have changed the world.

He let months pass, unsure of himself. Had he still been Captain Flint, he would have written to Silver in a heartbeat – hell, he would’ve gone back to the Maroon Island. But he was not Captain Flint anymore.

Finally, on a stormy day where working the fields was impossible – when he had no more excuses, and his patience with himself had run out – he sat down at his desk, quill in hand, and started a letter.

He didn’t write to Silver directly, he wouldn’t dare, but composed a letter to the one person he was sure would pass it on. It might also have been because he was sure of her whereabouts, and no one else’s. (Of course he was sure he knew where Silver was, but contacting him directly was both impossible and one dream too big.)

So he wrote to Max, included a second letter to Silver, to be forwarded to him if she saw fit and knew his whereabouts. She ran Nassau now – he was sure she both had the knowledge and skill to know what kind of contact Silver desired, and to find him.

He didn’t get an answer for weeks, and when that turned into months his anxiety of waiting turned into certainty that Silver did not want anything to do with him.

He had all but forgotten (or so he told himself, again and again, whenever he remembered, and then saw the quiet sympathy on Thomas’ face, knowing it must have shown on his own) when a messenger arrived with a letter from Nassau.

He didn’t know what to do with it at first, his mind too shocked to read, but his hands moved on his own, opening it with shaking fingers.

It was not from Nassau.

He did not recognize the writing at first and dread pooled in his stomach; he feared that his letter had fallen into the wrong hands, until he focused on the words and his anxiety was replaced by the smallest spark of hope.

It was from the Maroon Island.

It was not Silver who had written to him, but after a few lines it became apparent that the letter still came from someone familiar – it was from Madi.

_Dear James,_

_I’m beyond happy to have received your letter, as I was in the dark about your fate and half-convinced that John had lied to me. I’m writing to you in his stead, because h_ _e is not ready to write you himself_ , her words on the page said. _But I can see him warring with himself, and the way he wants to, but cannot reach out. I can see it in his eyes, and in the way he still goes to that cliff you left so many months ago._

Thomas, who had come in from outside, found James still standing just behind the door instead of the living room and approached him carefully.

“Did he write?” he asked.

James shook his head. “No, but Madi did.”

Suddenly he was filled with regret that Thomas didn’t know what this meant, that he had never met Madi.

Thomas smiled anyway.

“What does it say?” he asked.

“I haven’t finished yet, and to be honest I’m afraid to.”

Thomas put a hand on his arm and guided him to one of their chairs. “Sit down, then, and finish what you started.”

He didn’t sit down with him but went to get something to drink, for which James was grateful. He wasn’t sure if he could have read on with Thomas’ eyes on him.

_You and I are just as much alike as you and he are. He does not know I’m writing to you, although I will tell him once I have sent this letter._

_I can tell that both of you, even so far away from each other, are still as close as you used to – your thoughts align even over this distance. I was angry at him at first, thought him to have killed you, and even after I started believing his words, my anger about being robbed of my chance to fight the very same people you wanted to fight stayed._

_I’m still convinced there would have been a way to fight and win the war, but I’m not as angry at him anymore as I was at first – he did what he did out of love, albeit misguided, and in the end it at least worked out for you, if not me. I cannot begrudge you that._

_He wanted to see you as an enemy, even though his heart told him you could never be that, and he is only slowly coming to terms with it. I’m sure he will win his inner fight soon, and write himself._

_He misses you – we both miss you – and I have to admit I am curious to meet Thomas. I’m unsure if I could let you enter the island once again, but I still believe seeing you would benefit us all._

_I hope you will answer me regardless of John’s decision._

_Madi_

Thomas returned just when James reached the last line.

“And?” he asked. “Is there hope?”

James took a deep breath. “I believe there is.”

It was just a glimmer, an ember, not a fire, but he knew that if Madi was willing to talk to him, Silver would soon follow.

  


  


For nearly a day he wondered if he should answer, but then he threw caution to the wind – why should he not answer to the contact he had initiated in the first place? It didn’t matter if it was Madi. He had become close to her during their alliance, just as Silver had.

  


It took several letters from Madi and another three months for a letter from Silver to arrive, and when it did it was shorter than Madi’s.

  


_Dear James,_

_I did not want to be manipulated by you again, and knowing how easy it is for you kept me from writing this letter for a long time. Until I realized that I am no different, that all this started because of me, and that maybe I am even more similar to you than I thought. And there was nothing but sincerity in your letter._

_Madi let me read the letters you sent each other, and I’ve seen that you are still somehow the same, but happier. I realised we have played just as big a part in making each other miserable as we did in making each other, not quite_ happy _, but maybe stronger._

_I spent days – months – sitting here, staring out at the sea, not knowing what I felt until I realised that I was waiting. ~~Missing you.~~_

The “missing you” was scratched out, crossed through, but still legible. James could feel the vulnerability in these two words.

_I realised that I do want to see you again – both of you – and I know Madi wants the same. I do also know that we cannot meet in Nassau, maybe nowhere in the West Indies, and I am reluctant to invite you back to the island, as is Madi._

_If you will have us, we would like to meet._

  


That night James lay next to Thomas.

“He wrote me,” he said.

Thomas turned to him, and James could see his smile even in the darkness. “I knew he would.”

James blinked, edging closer. “How?”

“You pull people in. Look at me. Look at us.”

How could Thomas still know him so well?

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing anymore,” James admitted. “None of this would have ever happened if I was less… charismatic.”

Thomas laughed a little. “It would have happened anyway,” he said said, “just differently. And there’s no use thinking about it, because it happened, and we’re here now, and the choices you make _now_ are what counts.” Then he closed his eyes and, more quietly, he added: “And your charisma is what drew me in in the first place.”

James kept quiet for a few minutes, because there was no arguing with that. Thomas was right. The past could not be changed – not any more than it already had – and he needed to think about what to do next.

“They want to see us,” he said finally, more to himself than to Thomas, convinced that his lover had fallen asleep already. “ _I_ want to see them.”

Thomas hummed and shifted, making James flinch.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said.

Thomas chuckled. “You were obviously still thinking. I wasn’t so tired that I couldn’t wait for you to finish your thoughts.”

James felt the urge to shove him but didn’t give in to it. It was a kind thing to say, a kind thing to do, and he hadn’t known too much kindness in the last ten years.

“We could invite them here?” Thomas asked, interrupting his thoughts.

James shook his head. “I don’t know… Wouldn’t it be too much?”

“Why?” Thomas asked. “When has anything ever been too much for you? They would see how we live. They could see that there is an alternative.” An alternative to piracy. And alternative to war. An alternative to prison. An alternative to suffering.

James scoffed. “He knows there is an alternative. They both do. We all do.”

“Savannah then?” Thomas asked. James grimaced, aware that Thomas most likely couldn’t see.

“I’d rather have them here, then,” he said.

If he was honest he would have rather travelled back to the Maroon Island. He had not realised that missing Silver also came with missing the sea, the feeling of sand or wood under his feet, the swaying of a ship. But he was also reluctant to leave their little farm again, the sea too filled with uncertainty and memories. And he was content here, he really was, for all it was worth.

  


  


Thomas watched him write his next letter, to both Madi and Silver, and open invitation to come stay with them. James did not include the exact location of their farm – he was so removed, but still afraid of all the enemies he had made, despite them most likely believing him to be dead. Instead he would pick them up in Savannah, if they wanted.

The answer came a few weeks later, a joint letter from the pair, with their agreement to come visit Thomas and James, and James was sure he wasn’t imagining the tone of excitement in the lines.

From there it was only a matter of correspondence and planning.

  


  


  


Thomas and James went to Savannah that fall to pick up Madi and Silver, who would be arriving on a ship called the _Rose_ out of Nassau _._ James had never heard of her, but he knew things must have changed since he had left – chances were she was a small merchant vessel, entirely legal and not flying the black.

They arrived early, the ship not even visible on the horizon yet, and the busy port made James anxious. He both wanted to get on one of these ships and sail to Nassau and retreat back inland at the same time. He didn’t know which of the impulses was stronger, and as they warred with each other inside him, he stayed put next to Thomas, hovering next to the pier.

Thomas urged James to get something to eat, but James only shook his head.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, when in reality he was nauseous. Thomas didn’t pry further but stayed next to him.

“They wouldn’t come if they hated you,” he said.

James laughed. “Oh, they still might.” Silver was not one to shy away from a fight. Not anymore.

James had gotten used to not always having to have a plan – a  _ plot _ – but the waiting on the shoreline was much harder than a few hours of free time a day.

  


Finally the _Rose_ approached the port, furling her sails, a flurry of movement aboard.

James’ heart was in his throat.

  


Madi came off the ship first, striding down the pier with her head held high as if the town already belonged to her. For all James knew, it already did. She almost took his breath away.

Silver followed after her. He had a new leg, and he moved on it more surely than he ever had on the old one. His hair wasn’t as long as it had been when James had last seen him, but still much longer than when they had first met. His face, in contrast, had become softer, looking a little like the boy again that he had been when they had first met. James wondered if he had shaved off his beard and regrown it in the odd year they hadn’t seen each other – it looked better.

Thomas jostled his arm. “Is that them?”

With a start James realised that Thomas had never seen them before. It must have been apparent enough, them being the only black woman and the only man with a missing leg coming off the ship.

“Yes,” he croaked.

“Go,” Thomas urged him and James could feel his hand on his back pushing him forward.

They spotted him the moment he started moving.

Both of them were looking at him as if they had seen a ghost. James took a deep breath and steadied himself. He had faced worse enemies than old friends. He had faced worse enemies than his own demons. While they both stopped, he kept moving, walking towards them, his feet falling surer with every step he took, until he felt something of the old grandness that came with wood planks and water under his feet.

Finally, Silver unfroze, and he stepped towards James, and – impossibly – opened his arms.

Embracing him finally slotted a puzzle piece into place James hadn’t known had been misaligned for all these months. Silver smelled cleaner than he ever had before but James still recognized him under the smell of soap.

Madi cleared her throat next to them, indicating that their hug had gone on for a little too long, but James could hear the laugh it was supposed to conceal. He took a step back.

“Your hair is longer again,” said Silver, obviously still stunned and at a loss for words. James understood.

“Yours is shorter,” he said.

Silver shrugged a little and it looked like he had something else to say about it, but didn’t want to utter it.

James gave him another smile and then looked at Madi. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” she said.

James turned a little, so he could see Thomas, too. “Madi, John, this is Thomas. Thomas...” He left the sentence unfinished, finding what could only be described as a grateful smile on Thomas’ face.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Thomas said.

Silver blinked at him but after a moment of what looked like contemplation and hesitation, his face actually split into one of those bright grins James had missed so sorely.

“You’re so tall… I mean, It’s good to finally be able to put an actual face to the name,” Silver said, and shook Thomas’ hand. It relieved James to see them together finally. “That’s actually one of my regrets… Not coming to see you myself.” James was reminded once again of what he had done for him. “But you’ll understand that I had my hands full with him.”

“Now, that’s hardly fair,” James said, “I had to wrangle you for years.”

Madi laughed a little. “Let me tell you, it has not gotten easier.”

Silver looked a little affronted, but unable to contain his smile, and only shook his head.

James smiled and pointed down the pier. “Shall we go?” He wanted to get them out of public. There were so many things to talk about, and he wanted to utter none of them in Savannah.

“Do you have any more luggage?” Thomas asked.

Silver shook his head and pointed at their things. “That’s all.”

“Still travelling light I see,” James said.

“Never shaken that habit. I’ve never had much. Never needed much.” Silver smiled and put an arm around Madi.

It reminded James that while Silver still did not have a lot of possessions, his attachments had grown anyway, if he had wanted them to or not. With Madi. With Jack. With the crew. Even with Flint, back then. And maybe his roots had grown, too.

  


  


They didn’t have a carriage, but Madi and Silver reassured them several times that their cart was fine than they didn’t have to rent more horses.

“It smells different here,” Madi said, when they had left the town and were on their way to the farm.

“It’s the trees,” James said immediately. “They make it more earthy.”

Silver laughed. “Do you hear yourself? More _earthy?”_

“It’s a very distinct smell,” James shrugged.

“I like it,” Madi said.

James had always liked the idea that if he wanted, he could just keep going inland, through all the changing lands, until he reached a shore again, and then double back. It was its own adventure. But he wouldn’t. He had a life now – with Thomas.

  


They reached the farm shortly before dusk. It was a bit out of the way, down a long path, and the trees opened onto the main house suddenly, letting it emerge into ones field of view as a surprise.

James could hear Silver gasp.

“Not what you’d expect, huh?” he said and couldn’t keep the slight smirk off his face.

“It’s so… different,” Silver said.

“It’s cozy,” Madi added.

It was nothing like the house Miranda had had on Providence Island – and it _had_ been Miranda’s, James had never really felt at home there.

This was closer to the house he had grown up in.

It was made almost entirely from wood and had two stories, although the second floor only served as storage at the moment.

“Two bedrooms,” Thomas said and helped Madi from the cart. “More than we need, really, but you always need room for guests...”

“You tend to it alone you said?” Madi said, looking around.

Thomas nodded. “Mostly. We hire some help for the harvest, but we’re mostly self-contained and only wanted to feed ourselves in the beginning, but we’re growing. We could expand.”

James and Silver shared a look. This farm wouldn’t have been possible without Silver, and he knew it. He had given them the first investment, the money necessary for this land, and the house, and the supplies, and the seeds. It had paid off.

“Next year we might make enough to sell on the market,” James said.

“It’s a business,” Silver said.

“Essentially, yes.”

“What do you grow?” Madi asked.

“Vegetables and grains for us, mostly,” Thomas said. “Peaches to sell. The trees are blossoming right now.”

“Tobacco might make more of a profit,” James said, “but I don’t like it, so we’re probably going to stay with the peaches.”

“Less work, for sure,” Silver grinned.

“I’ll tend to the horses,” Thomas said. “You go on ahead.”

“Are you sure?” Madi asked. “We can help.”

James was already unhitching the horses, ignoring Thomas completely. “It’ll be faster if we do it together,” he said.

Thomas sighed and waited until he had the horse freed before taking the reins from him. “Thank you, but I was being serious. Go on, show them the house. You can carry the luggage if you’re so insistent on helping.”

James rolled his eyes but let him go and took Madi’s and Silver’s things from the cart instead. “Come on then,” he said.

They followed him to the porch and through the door into what James had been quick to accept as his home.

“I’ll put you up in your room first,” he said, “and then I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

The second bedroom was small, but had all the necessities. He put their things down next to the bed.

“Do you want to unpack, or-”

Silver didn’t even let him finish. “There’ll be time for that later,” he said. “Show me your house. I want to know how you live.”

James caught Madi’s slight smirk. He felt the same elation at Silver’s obvious interest in his home, and his life, and his open insistence on it.

“Follow me, then,” he said. “There’s not much to see, but it’s home.”

  


They followed him into the living room.

“Oh, there’s so many books,” Madi said, clearly in awe. James smiled.

“We’re rebuilding our collection,” he said, motioning at the shelves. “Thomas is even thinking about writing a book.” It would be a good use of his time, and intellect, and came as close to activism and politics as they would probably ever get again. (Or at least in the near future. James had no illusions about their patience and their restraint. He knew Thomas was tired of a quiet life, had never liked the idea of it, and he doubted that he himself would enjoy it forever.)

“ _You_ should write one,” Silver said, almost making it seem like an afterthought while he stepped closer to inspect the volume.

James caught Thomas coming inside from the stables from the corner of his eye, and would turned towards him.

“ _I’m_ going to write one about all of you, because no one else here has any perspective,” Madi said. James had to grin. She still had the same bite he had gotten used to. Thomas caught his look and smiled back, slightly raising his eyebrows.

Silver turned, affronted. “Now, don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?”

“You got into all of this by accident,” she said, but the sharpness had disappeared from her voice. “And then you followed, right until the moment it didn’t suit you anymore.”

“Maybe,” Thomas offered, physically stepping forward and diffusing the situation before it could become a fight, “you should all write a book together. That way everyone gets to write their piece.”

“We’re getting very serious about this hypothetical book,” James said. He didn’t want to bring up all the broken trust again. He did not want them all to fight on Silver’s and Madi’s first night here.

It enticed him, the notion of getting their story out there, the way it had really happened, with everyone contributing their side of the story. It meant being able to spread truth, while keeping each other in check.

But he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to seriously consider it.

  


Dinner was tired and quiet – maybe the slightest bit tense, but James tried not to let it bother him. He had grown used to only having Thomas around, so this was a welcome change of pace. Dinner on the _Walrus_ and even in Nassau had always been loud and lively – if you ignored the meals taken alone in his cabin, brooding over plans and maps – and the few times he had eaten with Miranda had felt odd during that time.

Finally, when they were almost done, and James thought he couldn’t eat any more, he excused himself. Madi and Thomas had entered into a tentative discussion over their politic views and while he wasn’t sure he could bear it already, he didn’t want to interrupt their exchange of ideas. The fire had returned to Thomas’ eyes and Madi seemed to be delighted to have another sparring partner that matched her.

He was afraid of where it might lead, but he was aware he was never going to be able to stop it, anyway.

So he stepped outside and sat down on the low bench out front of their house, looking out at the trees and the path sneaking off into the woods towards the city. There was another porch on the other side of the house, but it looked out on the orchard and the crops and the stables, and he liked this one better during the night. It reminded him there was still a world out there.

He had brought one of the candles from inside with him and set it on the bench next to him. It didn’t do too much for visibility, but it held the darkness at bay. James had never thought himself to be afraid of the dark, but out here it would sometimes start pressing down on him without warning, closing in on him like too-tight walls. Thomas helped, and when he wasn’t there, James always had fire and books.

After a few minutes of just breathing in the cool night air and listening to the quiet rustle of the tree he heard the door open behind him and then the familiar sound of a wooden leg on the floor boards of the porch.

Silver joined him on the bench and settled down next to him with barely any stiffness. He still unlaced the straps of his leg as soon as he sat down and removed it, rubbing the stump. James was glad Silver was still this comfortable around him, not just out of necessity.

They sat in silence for a few moments, only separated by the candle.

“You smile more easily now. Real smiles.”

James blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Silver to open their conversation with something like this. “Hmm,” he made, contemplating. “I guess it’s easier now. No crew to hound me. No war to fight. Just my farm.”

“And Thomas,” Silver added.

“And Thomas,” James agreed.

He could hear Thomas and Madi laughing from inside the house.

A strand of hair had come loose out of Silver’s short ponytail and James was tempted to touch it, to brush it back behind Silver’s ear, to rest his hand there. It had been so long since he had touched him, even if it had only ever been in passing. He didn’t now, withstood the urge, but Silver saw him look.

“I actually cut it much shorter a while ago. It didn’t feel the same without wooden planks under my feet and a breeze overhead. Didn’t feel right. But it’s been growing again.”

James couldn’t contain his confusion. “You’re not a pirate anymore?”

Silver scoffed. “I’ll always be a pirate. I captained a ship for a while, I’ll have you know, but it never really stuck. I couldn’t shake the feeling that you had been the one to drag me into this, and continuing on without you just… I didn’t know how to do it.”

“Don’t you think you would have ended up at a similar place without me?” James asked. “You’re a good leader. You’re self-sufficient and you have good instincts.” Maybe in another life, he would have ended up in the Navy too. But Silver had never told him what had happened to him and James had stopped asking after their fighting lessons. He understood the trauma of dark pasts, and the way they either consumed you or completely deserted you.

Silver let out a long breath and shifted on the bench, making the candle flicker. “Honestly? No. I was just a lying kid trying to survive. You gave me… a purpose. Madi is keeping it up, but we’re still trying to find my place in this new world…”

That struck James to his core. Of course he remembered what Silver had been like, how he had found his way to the crew, but James had never seen him as a man without a purpose. Drifting a little, sure, but not someone to become so dependent on someone else he would end up after him just as he had been before.

“Survival is a purpose,” he said.

“Is that what _you_ were doing?”

James sighed and leaned back. “For a while, maybe. But mostly I was living for revenge, and the war...” _And you_ , he didn’t say. When they had first gotten the farm it had all seemed like a bad dream, something that had happened in a haze and in the mist, but the more James had settled in the more moments had started standing out, until every conversation with Silver had come back to him and he had realised what had ultimately led them here.

“Are you still upset I took it away from you?” Silver asked.

“Upset? I don’t think I ever was, after that first week. Not once I realised you had not been lying. You waited for me to realise your sincerity, and I did.” He was grateful, above all. Silver had not stolen anything from him in removing the possibility of the war. Trading it for Thomas had been the best decision James had ever made. Trading Silver for Thomas, however...

“You did your waiting, too,” Silver said, distracting him from his thoughts.

“It gave me perspective,” James said and paused – hesitated. “I don’t need a grand war… I just need this.” He gestured at the farm, and the house, and Silver.

Silver cocked his head a little. Contemplating. James knew he had caught the gesture, and what it meant. “You mean it?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” James said. “It was hard at first, the adjustment. I didn’t know what to do with myself, convinced that I was meant to do something greater than this – changing the world. But when you asked me if I would trade the war for Thomas, my reaction was genuine. I didn’t want to consider the possibility then, neither of him being alive nor of… of loving you, but I allowed myself that one comment.”

Getting out the words was hard, but he knew that he had to do it now, before his courage left him and he was left to wonder about what ifs for the rest of Madi’s and Silver’s stay, maybe for the rest of his life. And that was not him. He felt vulnerable, like he had stripped off the last layer of armour that had still remained. He was left to hope that Silver would not stab him now, when all he had was his skin.

Silver flinched a little, but that was all.

“I don’t know how to react to that.”

Of course, the first time James would actually render Silver speechless would be with a confession of love. He wasn’t sure what else he had expected.

“Don’t be a coward now.”

They turned to see Madi standing in the doorway, her arms crossed.

“You heard that?” Silver grimaced. James suddenly realised the position he had put him in – Silver, who was probably eternally devoted and _committed_ to Madi now, grappling with his attraction for another man. It had to be a lot. Maybe it was too much.

“Yes,” Madi said, stepping closer, and James could see Thomas hovering behind her. “It does not bother me. After all, we are similar.” She smiled at James. “And I realised very early on that I could not have one of you without also having the other in some way.”

James looked from her to Silver and saw him blink a few times, his gaze flickering between all three of them.

“I’ll… have to think about this,” he finally said. James nodded. This was good enough.

As long as Silver wouldn’t run away, it was enough for him.

  


  


They didn’t talk about it again after that first night.

But it was obvious in the little things that Madi and Silver fit right into their lives.

A week after their arrival, Silver went with Thomas to Savannah to pick up a consignment of supplies while James stayed on the farm with Madi.

They cooked together. Madi sat with him while he mended holes and rips in shirts, and told him what she knew about Nassau.

They talked about Silver and Thomas.

They took walks underneath the blooming peach trees to inspect them for damage and worms.

“He’s so hesitant, it’s almost painful to watch,” she said unprompted, but James didn’t have to ask who or what she was talking about.

“It’s new to him,” he said and shrugged. No matter how open John was, this had to be an adjustment.

She shook her head. “See, I don’t think it is. He’s had so much time to come to terms with it, but he tried to run away from it instead.”

“Who can blame him…,” James mumbled.

“He has nothing to be afraid of here,” she said gently.

“He’s afraid to lose you,” James countered. “He’s afraid he can’t be with both of us.”

Madi laughed a little. “You don’t have to be divided through me. You know hey tried once, but I’m a human being with my own mind and wishes. I can be your uniting force.”

James scratched his beard and squinted at her through the rays of sun falling through the leaves on the trees. “I pray you’re right,” he said.

“I know I’m right,” she said.

They continued their walk, and James felt a little lighter.

  


“You should plant other trees,” she told him, ten minutes later, “that way you won’t lose everything if any disease should ever befall your peach trees.”

James looked at the trees and wondered whatever could kill a beautiful thing like that, but quickly realised that it was always the beautiful things that weren’t meant to last.

“You’re right. Apple trees, maybe.”

“Oranges, too, if they’ll grow here,” Madi said.

James had seen them grow further south, in Spanish territory, and he hummed, considering. Getting a few trees at first would be a reasonable investment, and they were resistant enough.

“I’ll talk to Thomas about getting some for next year,” he said.

“We have an orchard on my island,” Madi said, “I could sell some of the younger trees and seeds to you after we return.”

Trade. And trade with a free island at that. James didn’t even have to consider it.

“I don’t think Thomas could say no to that,” he said.

  


Thomas and Silver would spend the night in Nassau, so Mad and James had the house to themselves. It was calmer that way. They were sitting in front of the fire, which had served its purpose for cooking and was now only keeping the chill of the night at bay and James felt warmer than he had in while.

“We have actual trade with Nassau now,” Madi said, her legs stretched out towards the fire.

James lowered his tea cup – he had taken to tea a lot more now, he felt like it connected him to Miranda, and it was safer than ale or rum – and looked at her. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Max and John saw to it,” she said. “And in extension Jack, but you know he’s still out there leading his own crew.”

James laughed. “For a moment there I imagined Jack supplying your island.”

Madi scoffed. “I would not let him set foot onto my island, let alone into my village.”

“He’s not that bad,” James said, “for a pirate… But he’s definitely not a merchant.”

“I prefer working with Max,” Madi said. “She’s reasonable, and she doesn’t mince her words. I’m not as isolated anymore. _My island_ isn’t as isolated anymore, but we can still choose who to correspond and trade with. I still mourn the idea of what the war could have done for us, and I am not sure slow change is going to get me where I need to be, but it is what I have now, and I’ll make the most of it.”

“It has to be frustrating,” James said. “I’m sorry.”

“It was not your fault,” Madi said. She stopped for a minute, sipped of her tea herself. “How did you cope with it?”

“I had Thomas. That’s all I needed.”

She hummed quietly. “Still, it must have been a shock.”

“It was.” He nodded. “It felt like a betrayal at first, especially when I realized he had kept it from me to use it as leverage, but I think I might have done the same thing.”

“That’s awful,” she said.

“It was.” James stared into the flames for a while, wondering if a different fire would have consumed him if he had continued down his path. “But I adjusted. I told myself that even if we had taken Nassau, England might have struck back with much greater force. And Thomas was worth it.”

He turned to find Madi looking at him with a smile. “You gained your freedom, and he regained his.”

He grimaced. “We did. I’m sorry yours is still a fight away.”

“It’s not,” she said and shrugged. “I’m free. What bothers me is that a lot of my people are still enslaved, that more of us are shipped into the ports of the colonies every day, beaten, and killed, and that I can’t walk the streets of any town but my own without people thinking I am his servant – or worse. The slow change that may never come frustrates me. But Nassau has to be enough for now. We will get there.”

“We’ll get there,” James echoed.

  


  


Thomas and Silver returned from Savannah the following day around mid-day.

“It’s astonishing how weird normal life can seem,” Silver said while they were unloading supplies.

James laughed. “Isn’t it?”

“Normal life for white, ‘civilized’ people is so far removed from what all of us know,” Madi said. “Honestly, the definition is incorrect.” The quotation marks around the word civilized were so clearly audible in her speech that James had to duck his head.

Silver snorted. “Normal life is clean streets,” he said.

“Normal life is hiding,” James said, hefting the barrel of grains from the cart.

“Normal life is open gates,” Thomas said.

“Oh, you had to go and make it serious,” Madi said.

“See, but it is ridiculous,” Thomas said. He was following James, walking next to Madi. “For ten years my normal was closed gates and silence, every day, but I couldn’t accept it. It was infuriating.”

“That’s what I mean,” Madi said, “normality and civilization are such ridiculous standards and definitions.”

“You should really write that book,” Silver said. “Both of you.”

“Well all should,” Thomas said.

They stopped talking about it then, but James was sure it would come up again. Books were such a big part of their life, and it was rubbing off on Madi and Silver.

  


  


They read together by the fire, some nights, and after they started sharing passages from the respective books they were reading it turned into reading out loud, everyone getting their turn on following nights. James found himself enjoying the sound of his own voice again. The way words fit together on his tongue, and the way the others watched him while he read. It was less destructive, because they were not his words. He could live like this.

Maybe one day he would learn to trust himself again, too. For his words to carry the same weight again, but none of the vitriol and darkness.

  


  


  


It took until one night when they were sitting outside again in the dark, this time by the light of two single candles. James was unable to sleep and Silver either the same, or unable to leave him. Then the words started spilling out of him.

“I’m sorry. You have to know that,” Silver said.

Madi and Thomas had long gone to sleep, and it had been only crickets chirping and the wind in the trees for a while ever since then, so James looked at him in surprise.

“What for?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, for keeping him from you for so long. I’m sorry for presenting you with a choice with only two options, after knowing which one you would have to pick. I’m sorry for exploiting and risking your happiness for mine. I’m sorry for putting you in chains.” Silver was looking at his hands, tightly grasped in his lap. The light from the candles was painting flickering shadows over his face.

He was beautiful. And James realized that he had been both holding back and working up to this moment.

“I _was_ mad,” James said, but Silver untangled his hands and raised one.

“I’m… not done. I’m also sorry that I robbed you of your purpose, of what you came here to do, for what was originally an endeavour shared between you two. I thought I would lose Madi if I let you continue doing whatever you wanted, but in reality it turned out that what _I_ did was what almost cost me her love. She showed me, she explained to me, that there would have been another way, if we had just worked together. But instead I let Rogers’ plan divide us.”

“It’s alright,” James said. He struggled for words for a moment. “I’m… it had to end this way. I was mad in the beginning, and it was still a betrayal, and it might have gone differently, but I’m glad I ended up here, with him. But I’m also glad you’re here now, too.”

Silver looked up at him, his smile a little lopsided.

James sighed. “I’m grateful that you brought us together again, beyond everything.”

“I’m still sorry,” Silver said. “I was too blind to see what was right in front of me.”

“John,” James said, and found himself enjoying the feeling of the name on his tongue, “it’s alright now.”

John nodded.

“Let’s go to bed, before Madi comes to hunt me down for keeping you up.”

John laughed a little. “She wouldn’t. She’s glad I talk to you again. Said it was both inevitable and a necessity.”

They got up to go inside anyway, because it was getting very late and there lay another day of working ahead of them. James blew out the candles.

  


  


A few nights later they finished reading their current book. James had just closed the cover, was finishing his drink and listening to the crackle of the fire while enjoying Thomas’ warmth next to him – and the fact that they could share this moment with other people in the house.

“Tell me about Miranda,” Madi requested. “What was she like?”

James looked up from his and Thomas linked hands and they shared a look.

“She knew people,” was the first thing Thomas said. “And she was kind.”

“She knew how to get what she wanted,” James said and Thomas had to laugh.

“She certainly knew how to get you.”

James sputtered and Madi and John laughed.

“I think you had me first, though,” he said, his tone turning soft halfway through the sentence.

“You’re so sweet,” Madi said.

“How did this whole… arrangement happen?” John asked, obviously curious, and James was glad he wasn’t holding back anymore. He was glad they could openly talk about this.

Thomas leaned back a little and hummed. “Friendship. Attraction. Love. It’s a complex story.”

James snorted quietly. “You make it sound like a fairy tale.”

Thomas met his look with a glint in his eye and James knew that he had just set him off. Thomas was competitive, and didn’t shy away from a challenge.

“The first time I met her, people told me she would seem like an angel to me – and she did. She was bright, and energetic, and unafraid to say what she thought. We were both from good families and became friends quickly, and I knew I would have to marry eventually. She knew I was not interested in women – I loved her as much as I ever would, but I did not _desire_ her.”

“You’re only interested in men?” Madi asked, and there was no judgement in her voice. Thomas nodded and that was that.

“She married me knowing full well what she was getting herself into, but we saw it as an opportunity for both of us. I can’t help but blame myself for what happened, sometimes...”

James straightened up. “Don’t you dare. There was too many factors at work there, a million things...”

“I know, I know,” Thomas said and looked at him sadly. “I know it wasn’t my fault, I just...” He shrugged. James kept staring at him intently and squeezed his hand, trying to convey all the thoughts he didn’t have the words for at that very second.

He only became aware of the other two again when there was movement at his side and Madi put her hand on Thomas’ arm.

“You cannot blame yourself. You were doing what you thought was right, and living your life, and then it got taken away from you. You had no say in the matter.”

Thomas looked between them and for a moment it was silent, then he nodded. Madi smiled and went to sit back down next to John.

“Tell us what _you_ thought about Miranda the first time you met,” John said to James.

“The first time _I_ met her,” James started, “she waved me over from where I was looking at Thomas and told me he was a great man. I think she saw my darkness before you did...” He trailed off for a moment. “She knew what she wanted and she took it, that’s certainly right.”

They all laughed and when they quieted down, Thomas started running his thumb over the back of James’ hand.

“You might have thought we were sharing her, but she was actually sharing us. We were sharing each other,” Thomas said.

“It was good,” James said. “That’s the only way I can think about it. It was good. It was everything to me, and I would have given up everything in a heartbeat to get you back right then, but I would have never given up everything we shared.”

“I understand,” Thomas said, and smiled.

“You were living in a way the world didn’t understand,” Madi said and James looked at her and saw his own emotions reflected back at him.

“It’s cruel, is what it is,” John said. “Because the world is cruel, and selfish, and people don’t want to understand things that seem alien to them.”

“It was the best relationship I knew,” Thomas said. “It was whole.”

  


James lay awake for a long time that night, wondering – despite their declarations of support – if they had scared Madi and John off.

  


  


The days went by, and his doubts slowly dissipated. Madi and John seemed to enjoy their company even more, and there was no mention of leaving any time soon. He was at home.

  


  


  


James was writing a letter to a potential business partner – it was too early to tell. But as predicted he was growing restless. He wanted to expand, wanted their farm to be better, wanted… more.

He didn’t hear John approach. He actually made him flinch when he suddenly appeared at his side.

“That’s new,” James said. He didn’t drop his quill, but he was acutely aware of John’s presence.

John chuckled quietly. “More like an old habit I had to work hard to reclaim. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

James still remembered when John had gotten his new leg, when one had been able to hear him approach from across the ship, when knowing him had been easy.

Now he was different. He was still the same person, sure, but stripped off the urgency they both had been living with for so long.

John sat down in the chair opposite him.

“I thought about it,” he said after a few seconds of silence. James looked up from his letter and blinked, while the realisation of what John had said settled in; the realisation of what he wanted to talk about.

“Alright,” James said diplomatically, keeping his tone even. He didn’t dare hope too much.

“I’ve always cared a lot for you,” John said. “And I somehow also always knew that it was… it was love. I just couldn’t say it, as bad as that sounds. And I had… I _have_ Madi. So I was hesitant… maybe scared, even. But I realised… After you and Thomas talked about Miranda again… I already knew, because I knew _you_ , but it always seemed tragic, and I think that made me try so hard not to want you. But now... We’re outside of society already, by necessity, maybe a little by choice, but mostly by necessity, so why _not_ add to it. I have no love for civilization, and there’s no way to change it to our liking within a day, but I have love for you.” He stopped for a second. He had obviously thought about what to say, but was now getting ahead of himself, the words tumbling out and bordering on incoherence. James smiled.

“There’s no one way to do this,” James said softly and John, whose gaze had started flickering around the room after the first few sentences, focused back on him. “You’re the one who said there is always a way. I believed you then. Do you believe me now?”

John nodded slowly.

James took a deep breath. “You can have as much or as little of me as you want. I have talked to Thomas about this, and he wants to get to know you better, too. I know he accepts me as I am, and he likes you, and Madi.”

“Alright,” John said, and then he smiled a little. “Won’t he be at least a little annoyed that he has to share you again, after all these years, when you just got each other back?”

“Just because I am committed to him, does not mean I cannot also be committed to you.”

That seemed to take John’s breath away for a second. He was so good at talking to try and get himself out of situations, but now he seemed wordless – dumbstruck. James smiled.

  


  


It changed very little between them.

James could finally be open with his affection, but all his touches were tentative. He didn’t want to scare John off – not until the feeling had settled in for him, too.

So it was long looks over breakfast – and James allowed himself to look now – and laughter while they worked, and rough voices at night.

  


  


  


The blossoms on the trees turned into fruits. Agonizingly slowly, but they did.

James wasn’t seeing the process for the first time now, but it was a novelty for Madi and John to observe it so closely, to make it a thing to _focus_ on, and they took daily walks in the fields.

  


There was a stream that flowed through their property – easy access to water, which James was eternally grateful for, and it flowed into a pond just off in the woods. It was good for swimming, when the weather permitted.

James had only been in it a handful of times. It felt weirdly small and restricting – more like a bathtub than a real body of water. It made him miss the sea.

But Madi and John wanted to swim, and Thomas was fond of the pond, so off they went one afternoon.

James had a weight in his stomach the entire time and he couldn’t place it until Thomas laughed at something John said, and James remembered him making the same expression when Miranda had amused him.

It felt domestic, and familial. And of course he would be the one to turn a good feeling into a bad one – because how dare he feel happiness.

  


“You look troubled,” Thomas said, a while later. Madi and John were floating in the shallow water, calm for once, and Thomas had come over to sit down next to James.

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a little much,” he confessed.

“You had them around you so much just two years ago,” Thomas said, “what’s different now?”

“Everything,” James said.

Thomas rolled his eyes a little. “Now you’re just being dramatic. Aren’t they still the same people? The people you fell in love with? We’re all removed from the circumstances and people that wanted to keep us down, that’s all. You’re allowed to be happy, James.”

James sighed. “I know. But it’s hard sometimes...”

“I know,” Thomas echoed and stood up again, extending his hand. “Come swim with me. Come swim with us.”

James took a deep breath and vowed to try and feel the happiness now. He had felt the sadness. It was alright. He took Thomas’ hand and let himself be pulled up, shed his trousers and followed Thomas to the edge of the water. It was still cold, and his mind pretended it was the exact same temperature the rough waters of the sea had been whenever he had felt them.

Thomas took his hand again and didn’t let him hesitate, resolutely wading into the water and pulling James with him. His hand was warm and James followed him easily after the first step. Soon the water was up to his navel and Thomas let go of him to dive into the dark water.

“Finally joining us?” John asked with a grin and attempted to splash water in James’ direction. James dove immediately, letting himself sink to the ground of the shallow pool and only coming up again after several seconds.

“You should know better than to try and ambush me,” James said with amusement to his voice and wiped water out of his eyes.

“Is that a threat?” John laughed and James remembered how little he had seen that expression on his face toward the end. But the thought disappeared a second later, because it hadn’t been the end, because John was here, and he was happy, and he was showing that smile again that always reminded James of a careless happy boy.

He grinned. “Maybe.” And he lunged for John to push him under water – playfully, gently.

  


The sun finally got through to him. He felt young again, something that had not happened to him in years and years and years.

They lay in the sun later, next to each other, sprawled out, and James could feel the happiness seep into his bones.

  


  


  


The touches came slowly, but they came. They were casual at first – a hand on his back from John when they were in the fields, James’ fingers lingering on John’s when he handed him a plate, pressed together on their sofa – one of the few luxuries of the house – at night in front of the fire.

Until one morning, when James had risen too early after too few hours of sleep, John joined him on the back porch.

“You always looked best in the morning light,” he said and James turned towards him, stunned.

“I didn’t think you noticed things like that,” he said.

John rolled his eyes. “You have no idea how often I was watching you.”

“I just figured it was out of fascination, no attraction,” James grinned.

“Where’s the difference?” John came to stand next to him and then his hand was on James’ on the rail.

James could feel the chill creeping up his spine, despite the gesture being so small. It was a step he never would have thought they would take.

Their eyes met once again and John’s expression turned into his trademark smile – with a bit of nervousness mixed in. James smiled right back.

He leaned in slowly, slow enough for John to pull back if he wanted, almost mirroring his and Thomas’ first kiss. But John didn’t pull back, not even the slightest bit. When their lips touched, James felt like he had been waiting for this moment for years.

It was short at first, and James pulled back to inquire if John was really okay with this, but John chased after him, capturing his lips once again. James laughed into the kiss.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he whispered against John’s lips.

“Don’t make fun of me,” John mumbled.

“I’m most certainly now.”

He shut up then and kissed John properly again, until John took his hand off James’ to slide it into his hair instead. An insisted tug accompanied James sliding his tongue over John’s lips and then John’s mouth opened for him.

It wasn’t hot or messy, but rather slow and lazy, befitting of the way the sun was only rising just now, and the fact that the other occupants of the house were still asleep, and the birds still singing in the trees.

  


  


  


He didn’t know how they all ended up in bed together.

Silver had been tired and James had told him to lie down while he was working at his desk in the bedroom. Madi came in a little later, smiled softly and sat down next to Silver, stroking his brow.

“I rarely see him so relaxed,” she said. James pushed away his ink and turned towards her. She looked at him, then back down at John. “He pretends like he doesn’t feel the responsibility any more,” she continued, “but I know he both hates and misses it. He picked up leading a crew at my insistence, because he needed something else to do besides moping after you.”

James had to laugh but stopped himself after a second so he wouldn’t wake John.

Madi smiled. “You laugh, but whether I believed that he killed you or not, for a while there I thought I had lost him.

“Stop talking about me and come lay down with me,” John grumbled.

James looked at Madi but she just shrugged. She kicked off her boots and laid down next to John who lazily put an arm around her.

“You too,” he mumbled in James direction.

James didn’t have to be told twice. He moved from his desk to the bed in a moment and laid down on John’s other side.

“Mhm, this feels right,” John mumbled.

Madi looked at James over John’s shoulder and smiled.

James could feel his heart swelling with love, and he was not sure if he could trust it yet, but he tentatively edged closer and put an arm around John. His hand almost reached Madi.

She touched his fingers with hers.

“This is good,” she said.

James could have fallen asleep like this. The room was warm in the afternoon, even with the sun on the other side of the house, and he could feel John’s heartbeat through his back. He was content.

Then he heard footsteps approach and when he cracked open his eyes to check a moment later, Thomas stepped into the room.

“Ah, this is where you all are,” he said, and there was no hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Mhm, sorry,” James mumbled. “This got really comfortable.”

“Mind if I join?” Thomas asked.

“Not at all,” they all said at the same time, and James could see Madi blink in surprise before a smile appeared on her face.

He heard the sound of Thomas’ boots hitting the floor and then the bed dipped on his side.

“We’re going to need a bigger bed,” Thomas joked.

“I think you might be right,” John said, his voice muffled. James could feel his heart swelling with the realisation of how comfortable he was – how comfortable they all were.

Thomas ended up half-draped across James and James wasn’t sure how he didn’t fall off the bed, but they managed.

And eventually, he did fall asleep.

  


After it happened again – and again, and again – they spent the next two weeks building a bigger bed that they would all fit. James told himself that it was only temporary, but the more the bed came together the more he was unable to extinguish the hope in himself.

James dreaded the day he would have to let them go again, but he also knew it was inevitable.

Madi and John _couldn’t_ stay. But he wanted them to.

  


  


  


James liked to paint. He had had an easel back in the cottage with Miranda, and one on the _Walrus_ , but towards the end of his life as Captain Flint, war had become more important than art.

He had picked it up again after settling on the farm with Thomas, and found his way back into it quickly. It busied him in a non-destructive way, and enabled him to capture moments he otherwise might forget as he got older.

He had several pieces of the farm already, of their house, and the orchard, and pond. A few of Thomas.

He hadn’t painted much since Madi and John had been there, too busy and too keyed up. And maybe also a little embarrassed, but today he had resolved himself to capturing the scene of them all sitting around the fire reading. Not an easy task, considering it was the middle of the day and he was painting from memory. Plus he couldn’t see himself sitting in the middle, but that was what mirrors and imagination were for.

The brush strokes came easily to him and the paint was cooperating with him today, the pigments having mixed easily.

Suddenly there was a voice behind him. “I didn’t know you painted.”

James only narrowly avoided flinching and ruining the painting.

“Never really made sense to tell you,” he said and put down the paint brush to turn around and look at Madi. She smiled.

“It suits you,” she said and slightly cocked her head to the side, inspecting the painting.

He felt strangely exposed. “It’s not done yet,” he said quickly.

She laughed quietly. “I can see that. But I can tell it’s going to capture the mood quite well, once it’s done. Would you allow me to see some of your finished pieces?”

For a moment James was silent, trying to decide on which course to take. It didn’t last long – he wasn’t _ashamed_ of his art, he just felt strangely insecure – and he nodded. “Follow me,” he said.

Some of his works were on the second storey of the house, but the ones he liked better sat under cloth in the living room and the bedroom, to protect them from the humidity. He led Madi to the corner of the living room and uncovered some of them, combing through them carefully before he just stepped back.

“You can go through them,” he told her.

“No naked ones of Thomas?” she asked, amusement clearly showing in her eyes.

He laughed. “You’ve seen him naked before.”

A mischievous grin appeared on her face. “No naked ones of _John_?”

“No.” James grinned right back and closed his eyes for a second. “But I could paint one for you.”

Madi laughed and then bent down to rifle through James’ works, too.

“James, these are beautiful,” she said. “You really have a hand for this.”

“I started painting only after I met Thomas and Miranda. They enriched me… And then I painted a lot after I became the Captain of the _Walrus_ ,” James admitted, stepping a little closer. “I don’t have any of those paintings any more, and they weren’t very good, and also very angry. But they were an outlet, and they helped me focus.”

Madi nodded, looking at a picture of the peach orchard. “I can imagine that.”

The tell-tale knocking of John’s leg on the porch gave him away before James could even see him. He entered the living room seconds later, and James didn’t even think about hiding the paintings from him. He must have already noticed that they were there, anyway.

“Ah, there you are,” John said, pulling out a chair for himself to sit down. “I see you’ve discovered his secret.”

“It’s not a secret!” James sputtered.

“Sure it is if you get so beautifully flustered about it,” John grinned.

“You knew?” Madi asked, finally looking away from the painting.

John shrugged. “I knew since the first day when I sniffed around in his cabin and saw the easel.”

James winced a little and shook his head. Of course he had seen – and then not addressed it at all in the following years. John _was_ capable of filing away thoughts without immediately voicing them, as unlikely as it seemed sometimes.

“I haven’t seen you paint before though,” John said, now looking at James.

“A very deliberate choice, I assure you,” James said. “I only let people I trust see me paint.”

John put his hand to his chest. “Ouch. Harsh.”

“Would you, though?” Madi asked. “Paint for us, at least?”

“I am,” James said, indicating the unfinished piece on the easel. “I have another one I’m thinking about, but I’ll have to finish this one first...”

He finally returned to the easel then. It was clear that the two of them wouldn’t leave again, and he didn’t want to waste the paint he had left. He might as well paint with an audience.

“You’re doing this from memory?” John asked, his arms resting on the back of his chair.

James nodded and picked up his paint brush. “I do that a lot. People don’t like to hold still, and I was lacking models… alive ones, at least. I can only paint Thomas so many times before he gets tired of it.” He remembered the paintings of Miranda he had done from memory. The one of Miranda and Thomas hadn’t survived the cottage on New Providence burning down, but he had painted one of the three of them together from memory a while after they had first come here. All of those were stacked in the back of the attic, hidden from all prying eyes.

“I’ll sit for you,” John said immediately.

James smiled. “You already are,” he said and dipped the brush into the paint.

He heard the familiar scraping of chair legs on the floor as Madi pulled up a chair for herself to settle into and watch.

He found that he didn’t mind.

They were both mostly quiet while they painted, and he turned around a few times to look at them and find better ways to portray them, until finally John picked up a book.

“For reference,” he said.

It helped immensely. Drawing from memory was one thing, but having an actual scene to draw from life was infinitely better, and James was rarely awarded the privilege to do so – because he rarely ever asked to.

Thomas returned after about an hour of this and only took one look at the scene before joining Madi and John. Now James’ little scene was complete.

The afternoon passed like this.

  


  


  


  


James was watching John with amusement.

He had the blanket pulled up all the way to his nose, and quite frankly James wasn’t sure how he could sleep like that. Sure, there was actual weather – almost seasons – here beyond hot and sweltering and rain but it was still warm enough that a blanket wasn’t necessary after the sun had risen.

“He started doing that a while ago,” Madi said quietly.

“You think he’s protecting himself?” Thomas asked.

James turned to look at them and the realization must have shown on his face because Madi shook her head.

“Not because of you, I think,” she said. “Or well, he doesn’t do it to protect himself from you. I think he’s just missing… warmth.”

James scoffed a little. “Warmth? I don’t think I ever gave him that, back then.”

Madi laughed a little. “You might think that. But you gave him a place where he belonged, and I don’t think my island is that place for him.”

James looked from her to John to Thomas, feeling lost.

Madi sighed. “At least he sleeps now that we’re here. He didn’t sleep much in the beginning after you… after he made you leave. He must have felt too guilty.”

“You were the same a year ago,” Thomas said softly, and James knew that he was right. He remembered.

He had clung to Thomas desperately throughout the first dozen nights, and wrapped himself in all the blankets he could find, and whenever a nightmare had woken him, he had been unable to fall asleep again.

Life as a pirate didn’t just fall away. It clung to you like the salt did after you fell into the sea.

“We should let him sleep,” James said, and that was that.

  


James asked John about it later, when they were sitting in the shade of one of the bigger trees.

John hummed and let himself fall back into the grass.

“I guess I am holding onto something of my past, yeah,” he said, then chuckled a little. “It’s interesting to me that I _have_ a relevant past now, a past that I share with you…” He paused there for a moment. “I used to lead the men, with you, by your side, but I’m not chasing that same feeling with Madi anymore. It’s not my place to lead her people. Letting go again felt weird, relinquishing that responsibility.”

James hummed, contemplating. “You grew into the role,” he said. “And you were good at it. You’re a good leader.”

“That may be so.” John shrugged. “But I never wanted to be a pirate.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re so good at it,” James said.

“Maybe I’m right where I belong right now.”

That shook James a little – that John felt at home here.

“Good,” he said, catching himself. “Is that why you sleep better here?”

John shrugged, his shoulders brushing against the grass. “I’m not going to lie, it feels good having you around again. I feel better when I can see you, and touch you, than when I don’t. It...” There he struggled putting into words what he was feeling, but James waited patiently. John was rarely afraid to say what he thought (more often what he felt, but James was confident he didn’t have any reservations with him).

“I sleep better with you,” John finally said. “You’re familiar, and I trust you, and I don’t need to shield myself around you anymore. You keep the nightmares at bay.”

James smiled. “I’m glad I can do that for you,” he said. “They can be terrible, those nightmares.”

“You’re telling me,” John said, and sighed. “I don’t remember a time where I didn’t have bad dreams, but with you they disappear somehow.”

James reached out instinctively to thread their hands together.

“You don’t need to hide with me,” he said. “You don’t need to protect yourself with me – not anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going away, and I’m going to do my damn best not to hurt you again.”

The corners of John’s lips quirked up but he didn’t say the sarcastic remark that he undoubtedly had on his tongue, and James was grateful.

  


  


James was just getting a new shirt, the other soaked through from working between the trees, when he felt a light touch, so light it may as well have been a ghost, on his shoulder. He turned to find John looking at his skin in marvel.

“I never allowed myself to touch you like that before,” he said aloud.

“Are you counting his freckles?” Thomas asked. “Because believe me, it’s impossible.”

John smiled his wide, young, toothy grin. “Nothing is impossible for me.”

God, how James loved him.

“Can you lay down?” John asked. “I want to count them all. They’re like art.” So James complied, the sheets soft and cool under his skin. He rested his head on his arms and let John do what he wanted, because there was no better thing in the world.

John spent the next hour mapping out the constellations on James’ back while the early morning sunlight streamed in through the window and Thomas put together breakfast for them all. Madi walked between their room and the living room, and Thomas could feel her presence more than he could see her, before she returned to help Thomas.

It was so peaceful, James almost lost himself in it.

John’s touch was light on his back, his calloused fingers a welcome sensation that had James shudder from time to time.

  


“Breakfast is ready,” Thomas said softly. James couldn’t see him, but he could hear the smile.

“Five-thousand eight-hundred thirty-two,” John said as James pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Thomas laughed. “You really counted them.”

“That’s less than you counted back then,” James said to him, finally pulling on a clean shirt.

“Skin changes,” Thomas said easily. “You’re an entirely different person now.”

James grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

“Also,” John said, “I didn’t count the ones on your legs.”

James shook his head fondly and walked into the living room on his bare feet, John following on his heels. He could live like this forever.

Breakfast was joyous, and warm.

  


  


  


There was no talk about Madi and John leaving until over two months into their stay, although it had been on James’ mind a lot. Always lurking in the background, the thought of not losing them again, but having to let them go.

They were sitting on the back porch together, watching dark clouds roll in, and it prompted Madi to think of her home.

“We will have to go back soon. The storms are coming and I will need to be there to make sure everything is in order.”

“We can’t just leave.” John looked troubled.

Madi outstretched her arm towards the South-East. “I have a responsibility, John. It pains me, too, but my people need me.”

“You share her fire,” Thomas said to James and looked at Madi, her arms crossed. James followed his line of sight and saw the same thing, but didn’t answer him.

He agreed with Madi, he fully understood her. She had a responsibility, she was a leader, she had already stayed with them for way too long. But he also understood the conflict John found himself in. He had several partners now, and felt himself torn between them.

“I don’t want to leave,” John said, and only narrowly avoided ending up sounding like a petulant child. James suppressed a smile.

“You can stay if you want,” Madi said and it only carried the slightest hint of sadness, although she looked tight-lipped. It pained James.

John shook his head. “No,” he said, “no, I won’t let you leave on your own.” So he had caught himself.

Madi’s posture softened a little. “We still have a little time,” she said. “And I won’t make you leave if you don’t want to. You can stay however long you want. But I will have to go back to my people.”

“I know,” John said, and then repeated the same words as if he had just found their deeper meaning. “I know.”

They fell quiet after that and waited for the storm to roll in, only heading inside after the first few drops had turned into a steady downpour. James knew this topic would come up again and John and Madi would leave eventually.

  


  


  


Sometimes James woke in the middle of the night and his heartbeat in his ears sounded like bombardment.

This night was one of them, and James sat up breathing hard, sweat coating the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, groggily but in a voice that James remembered well from all these sleepless nights on the _Walrus_.

“Just a nightmare,” James said quietly. He hoped Thomas and Madi wouldn’t wake.

“Was it Rogers?” John asked. “I dream of him sometimes...” A pause. “And you.”

James froze, his mind turning dark immediately. How he hated being the subject of John’s nightmares. He remembered their conversation a week ago and wondered why they went away with him when he was the one who had caused them.

“I dream of you dying,” John said and James could feel the ice melting.

“Oh,” he breathed. He didn’t have to apologize for that.

“You’re not a monster. You know that, right?” John said. He didn’t touch him but James could feel the comfort anyway. How John had known that his thoughts had immediately gone to James killing him, he didn’t know.

“I made myself the monster, I think.”

“ _They_ made you the monster. You had good ideas. You had good _intentions_. You were striving for greatness.”

James scoffed silently. “You know I perpetuated the rumours, the image of me as a ruthless person. England started it, and I went with it to get to my goal.”

“Nothing bad in that,” John whispered. “God knows I’ve done my fair share of lying and going along with things to stay alive.”

“You were always ambitious,” Thomas mumbled from beside him and James flinched, guiltily.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said.

“We sleep in the same bed,” Thomas said, rolling over. “I know you, I’m used to you – to all of you now. There’s no way I wouldn’t wake up.”

“Me too,” Madi said.

James sighed, but he let them touch him soothingly and guide him back to sleep.

  


  


One morning – after an especially bad, but eventually restful night – James got up late. The others had let him sleep in, presumably exactly because of his dreams plaguing him so much during the night, and he was the last one up.

He found Thomas and John on the front porch, the light catching on John’s dark head.

There was a sea of black locks at their feet and Thomas was looking unhappily at John’s hair, running his hands over the unruly mess.

“Now what did you drag him into?” James asked softly and both of them turned towards him at the exact same time. It made him smile.

“Is this why you didn’t cut it forever and then cut it off short… Did that happen by accident?” James laughed.

John grumbled. “Long hair is fashionable, alright?”

“Oh, I’m aware,” James said and stepped closer. “I’m just wondering if it’s easier not to cut it and endure the discomfort for you.” He looked at Thomas with his still short hair and Thomas shrugged.

“You’re letting yours grow,” John said.

“Not as much as you.”

John sighed loudly. “Do something about it then, or are you all talk?”

Thomas had to laugh at that and James joined. “You know I’m not.”

“You know that wasn’t what I meant.”

James was aware – and very glad, if he was being honest. He was happy he could joke with John now, make careless statements. The novelty of the simplicity hadn’t worn off yet.

He was afraid of the day he would grow bored and ambitious again. It would only lead to his ruin.

He walked away from that thought and took the scissors from Thomas, who seemed glad to give them to him. “Let’s see what I can do.”

“Do not make me look like you during the war, or I will end you,” John said.

“Don’t worry, being bald wouldn’t suit you.”

John squawked. “Thank you for that mental image.”

  


James did manage to make John look presentable, his hair framing his face better than it had before.

“It’s lighter now,” John said, pulling on one of the strands. It ended just above his shoulders now – long enough to still be able to pull it into a ponytail, short enough to not be oppressive in the heat.

“Better in the heat, hm?”

James had put the scissors aside and was now running his hands through John’s hair. He couldn’t seem to stop.

“Very much so.”

  


  


  


  


It took them another three weeks, and another argument, to finally decide on the date they would leave.

“Two weeks from now,” Madi declared. “We’ll have to make arrangements with a ship to bring us to Nassau, but that should not be a problem from Savannah.”

“I’m going into town soon anyway,” Thomas said. “I’ll look around for suitable passage then.”

And James tried to tamper down the disappointment. He had known this would happen. He had known, because this was what grown people did, and he wasn’t going to be a child about it. He knew the distance wouldn’t diminish their affections for one another. But the sadness still stayed.

  


He was determined to make the last two weeks just as beautiful, just as calm and warm as the rest of their time here had been.

He tended to the herb garden with Madi, and went swimming again with John, and they all still read around the fire at night. But something felt off, and James hated himself for it.

Of course they noticed – he might have been good at concealing his emotions once, but not around the people he loved. It was always written on his face, regardless of how much he tried to hide it.

They were in bed, just after sundown, with a few candles illuminating the room just enough for them to read. Well, for Thomas and Madi to read. James had long given up on reading and was just staring at the pages without actually understanding a word, lost in his thoughts. Meanwhile John was lying stretched out over the width of the bed with his head at Thomas’ feet, Madi’s legs resting on his thighs, James’ feet tucked under him.

“You haven’t turned a page in over five minutes,” John mumbled.

James startled and looked up, only to find John’s eyes closed. “You keeping count?”

“Mhmm, the sound of paper rustling is soothing,” John explained. “And you read very… evenly. There’s a certain rhythm to you turning the pages, and it’s been disrupted.”

“Nothing escapes you,” Thomas said and James sighed, finally lowering his book. He knew where this was going, and it was better not to resist them.

“I was distracted,” he admitted.

“Yes, I could basically hear you thinking,” John said and finally opened his eyes, looking straight at James.

“It is a very distinctive sound,” Thomas teased and closed his book, too. “Or more… an absence of sound. You get very still, you know? When you’re passionate about something, you’ll pace, but when you’re lost in thought you just cease moving entirely. It’s fascinating.”

James hunched forward slightly, drawing up his shoulders.

“I was just wondering what I would do after you had left,” he said to John and Madi. Even after all this time exposing himself like this felt raw, and too much, even though they had lived through war together. They had seen him at his worst, and they were still here. “And what I could do to make the rest of your time here as good as possible, without drowning in the feeling of… losing you.”

He grimaced, afraid that he had said too much. They didn’t deserve him saying this, they had done nothing wrong, and he didn’t want to make them feel bad.

John shifted, pushing himself up with his arms so he could sit up and James looked away from him, only resulting in him looking straight at Madi..

She sighed and ran a hand over his shoulders. “We love you,” she said, and James shivered.

“We do,” John said. “We love you. _I_ love you. I want you to feel good.” He placed one hand on James’ elbow, the other on his cheek. “Stop living so much in your head.”

“It’s the only way I know how to live,” James said. “That or with my fists.”

“That’s not true,” Thomas cut in again. “You also know how to live with your mouth, which is the best compromise.”

John snickered.

“You two are insufferable,” James said but there was no edge to his words and he felt a little lighter already.

“Well, you do know how to live with your mouth in both ways,” John grinned, but he sobered quickly. “But truly, you don’t have to think about it so much, alright? We’re happy so far, and we’ll continue to be happy. What happens will happen. Just… let go for a while.”

And while James knew that at least half of it had to be wishful thinking or outright lies he was tempted to give in anyway.

  


  


It did go a little better from there, James letting himself just feel without thinking about it too much.

Despite what Thomas had said about going to Savannah alone, they all went together. He wanted to go to the market, and Madi had expressed interest too. James was hesitant to let them go alone, and of course John wouldn’t stay on the farm on his own.

So they went back to Savannah, sooner than James had planned, but they weren’t seeing Madi and John off yet, which was much better.

  


James did not like the market. He had been enticed, and fascinated, by them when he had been younger, but decades of seafaring and years of piracy had given him a lot of respect for tight quarters and crowds.

Still, he was discovering that exploring the rows of stalls together with his lovers centered him, and eased the anxiety. It was close to the harbour, but all the different wafting smells masked the sea-salt of the ocean and the shouting of the sailors, so he didn’t feel as drawn to and pained by it as he usually would.

He figured he would have to get used to it anyway, if they wanted to sell here themselves soon, although he suspected Thomas wouldn’t push it if he objected to going.

And it wasn’t as uncomfortable an experience as it could have been.

He wasn’t interested in any of the fancy fruit, he had enough of them at home, but some of the bread being sold fresh interested him. He could never get it right over their fire and was glad whenever he could buy some in town – or Thomas brought some back with him.

They bought three loaves – two to take back with them to the farm, one to eat over the course of the day, and James was happy.

It wasn’t more colourful than life on the farm, it was just that there were more colours in greater abundances.

In accordance with that, reminded of his craft, James bought new pigments for his oil paintings.

They also found fabric that James liked – he had recently started learning how to sew properly after only knowing how to mend for so long – and suddenly John and Madi weighed in with their opinions.

“I think you should get that one,” Madi said, pointing at a fabric in a dark red.

“I would go well with your hair,” Thomas agree. “Although personally I’m partial to seeing you in blue.”

“Well, I can only get one,” James said diplomatically. “Two kinds would be too expensive.”

“It’s a shame we can’t just steal it,” John muttered under his breath. James stepped on his foot. John retaliated by jabbing his artificial leg against James’ shin. “Careful, I still need that one!”

“I’m not a petty thief,” James said. “Never was, never will be.”

“I know, I was just joking.”

James nodded, and they continued on.

A few minutes later they passed a pen with pigs and John elbowed James into the side, as if nothing had happened.

“You should get some, so you won’t have to hunt as much anymore.”

James snorted. “Not after that one time you so masterfully cooked one.”

“Still? You have one good memory.”

“It _was_ very memorable,” James grinned. “Besides, we already have the cow and the goat, and I’d rather have sheep. At least their wool is useful.”

They already didn’t have to hunt that much. Feeding two people wasn’t hard, and additionally to the cow and goat they had chickens on the farm. With Madi and John there their hunting activity had increased a little, but it had only ever been temporary.

John looked affronted. “Excuse me? Pigs are just as useful. They literally eat your garbage.”

“You would know,” James teased and John squawked.

He turned around. “Thomas, he’s being rude again!”

“I know,” Thomas said from behind them and James could clearly hear the amusement in his voice. “Just ignore him.”

“Traitor,” James said. He felt warm inside. He had never thought he would be able to enjoy pointless banter again, but finally, he did.

  


They didn’t buy a pig, and finally moved on to find a suitable ship for John and Madi to book passage on back to Nassau – or, if unavailable, any friendly port in the Bahamas from where they could make their way back to either Nassau or the Maroon Island.

They walked down to the port, and James could feel the hairs on his arms rising again. He was never sure if he liked the proximity to the sea. It was a divided feeling, on one hand he could feel the ocean calling to him, on the other he only approached her with trepidation, all too aware of the terrible things he had done because of her, out there.

Thomas sensed it, of course. “Will you be alright?” he asked.

James thought about it for a moment before he nodded. “Yes.” He couldn’t be afraid of the sea forever. And between all of them, he had the most seafaring experience.

It didn’t take them long to find a Captain willing to take Madi and John to Nassau in a few days time, and talking to him felt so familiar to James that it surprised himself. He still knew how to do this, and it didn’t feel like he was being pulled back into a life he didn’t want.

They returned home that evening, and James found that his fear of the port as well as is anxiety about Madi and John leaving had diminished.

  


  


  


James started writing after that day. His new-found proximity to the sea had inspired him, and even though he still didn’t trust himself around the water, he did trust his memories, and his heart.

They had only ever talked about writing a book in theory, and he still wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but if he had learned one thing it was that his words couldn’t hurt anyone if they couldn’t hear them. He would write down what he had experienced, what he had suffered and done, and not show it to a single soul unless Thomas or John or Madi specifically asked him.

They noticed him writing, of course they did, but kept their distance, seemingly aware and respectful of his space and the fact that this was a private moment for him.

Maybe he would be able to make peace with his past like this. If he wrote down chapter after chapter, maybe the book would close eventually. If he wrote about all the deaths, maybe they would stop haunting him. And maybe the sea would feel like an old friend again, and not an enemy.

Thomas would write his version eventually, James was sure.

If any of it would ever see the light of day, he couldn’t say, and he didn’t want to know yet.

  


  


  


It was one of the last days of Madi and John’s visit and they were lazing around that morning. Thomas had fallen asleep again, which was uncommon, and James allowed himself to look at him for a while. The years they hadn’t seen each other had changed him, his skin was tan from the sun, and there were more crow’s feet around his eyes, but he was just as beautiful as he had been when they had first met. Just as captivating.

“You look at him with such adoration,” John said suddenly. “You don’t look at me that way.”

“It’s because you’re such a little shit and you annoying me will bring me into an early grave,” James said, not looking away from Thomas, but he could feel the laughter pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Madi pushed against his leg with her foot. “You’re a liar. I see how you look at John.”

“It’s not as soft but it’s the same adoration,” Thomas said, startling them all. “We just came into his life at different times. It makes sense.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” James said. “You hear everything.” He could see Thomas’ grin all too well.

“Maybe that’s how I had to learn to survive here,” Thomas said, without any bite.

James looked at John and he knew they were thinking the same thing.

“Me too,” John said.

“I can try to stop if it bothers you,” Thomas offered, finally opening his eyes to peer up at them.

They all shook their heads at the same time. “No,” Madi said, “no, you shouldn’t have to.”

“I like it,” John said.

“It’s… an interesting way of being listened to,” James offered.

Thomas laughed. “Speech is silver, silence is gold,” he said. “Loose lips sink ships, and all that.”

“You’ve never sunken a ship in your life,” James said. “And you don’t have to be afraid to speak up around us.” It troubled him to find his once outspoken partner wordless again and again. Thomas had never known how to hold back, and James had admired that about him. A decade locked away had taken it from him, but he was fighting hard to regain it.

“Plus, you know, not all treasure is silver and gold,” John said.

James, startled, couldn’t contain the laugh. “That might just be the most ridiculous thing you have ever said.”

“And your name is Silver,” Madi said.

“He does have a point, you know?” Thomas said.

“I can’t believe you two are ganging up on me and the only one on my side is Thomas,” John said and James could have sworn he was pouting.

“It’s a proverb, anyway,” James said. “We don’t have to pay it any mind.”

And thank god for that, because he really didn’t want to see silver spilling out of anyone’s mouth. Least of all Silver’s, who had lied enough for a lifetime. And he wanted to see less gold from Thomas, who really shouldn’t have to keep quiet.

James ran his hand through Thomas’ hair and Thomas smiled at him.

“Breakfast?” John asked, and James rolled his eyes.

“Go make it yourself, you always wanted to be a cook,” he said.

John heaved a sigh. “You’ll never let me live that down, huh?”

James grinned and shook his head. “No,” he said. It was too much of a happy memory to let either of them forget about it.

Eventually, they all got up, to greet the day together.

  


  


  


John and Madi had assured them that they didn’t have to come all the way with them to Savannah again, that they could find their own way. Thomas and James however had insisted to come with them, so eventually they had settled on a compromise: they would go to Savannah together the day before their departure and take rooms in town, but Thomas and James wouldn’t come down to the harbour with them.

James was secretly relieved. He wasn’t sure if he could have watched the sea take them from him again.

They just said their goodbyes that morning, preferring to do it in the privacy of the room they had all shared (the second one only booked to keep up pretences). It was hard, but James had come to terms with the fact that they had to leave, and he was determined to hold it together.

They were standing by the door, Madi and John about to leave, and Madi put her hands on James’ cheeks, leaning their foreheads together for a moment before she pulled back and took his hands. “Next time, come to the island.”

James breathed in, carefully. Then he smiled. “I would love that.”

Then she stepped aside, and John took her place, and James’ breath left him again. He didn’t know how to say goodbye to John again. He had been so angry the last time that he hadn’t even looked back, had been glad to be out of his sight. But now… now everything was different.

“I’ll miss you,” James said and tried to not let the urgency, the desperation bleed into his voice.

Of course John noticed anyway. “I’ll miss you, too,” he said, and then he smiled that big smile of his that James had found obnoxious once upon a time.

And then he was kissing him, and it was desperate, and James didn’t know how to convey his emotions. He hugged John for a long time, on for dear life. He didn’t know how to let go, so instead he buried his face in the crook of John’s neck and hoped he wouldn’t walk away.

But he had to, and James knew it. So he let go.

“We’ll see each other again,” Thomas said, hugging first Madi and then John.

“I’ll write you, even if he doesn’t,” Madi promised and James almost found his smile again at that.

John rolled his eyes. “I’ll write.”

“You won’t get rid of me again,” James said and John nodded.

“I wouldn’t want to,” he said.

About to leave, John hesitated, turning back and gripping James’ hand – wordlessly. James’ heart was hammering in his chest, and he squeezed right back, equally quiet. Their shared emotion held for a second, before John let go, their fingers sliding over each other’s palms.

Then they were gone.

John watched the doorway long after they had disappeared, and his heart felt heavy in his chest.

“They know,” Thomas said. “They know you couldn’t have seen that ship without getting on it with them.”

  


  


Thomas and James returned to the farm that afternoon, and James stood in the frame of the bedroom for a while, looking at their now too-big bed. The house felt emptier now.

Thomas came up behind him and hugged him, his chest pressed to James’ back.

“You’ll see them again soon,” he promised. “And right now you have their likenesses, and their letters, and your memories.”

And that reminded James, that even if the couldn’t see them in the flesh, he still had his paintings, and his writings. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Thomas’ cheek. “Thank you.”

  


The day after they had left, James started putting up paintings in the house. The one he had done of Thomas, Miranda and himself. The first one he had done of Madi, John, Thomas and himself. And a third one of John he had started shortly before the two of them had left, with John’s hair now only barely touching his shoulders.

They made the house brighter, and John and Madi’s absence didn’t feel as bad anymore.

  


  


  


They travelled to the Maroon Island that following winter, and for the first time James felt like he knew what he was doing, like the sea was calling to him again and he was right in listening to her. In listening to Thomas. In listening to Madi. In listening to John.

He had found himself again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :)
> 
> title from [Nice2KnoU](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0JwqXYgfts) by all time low bc i'm predictable but fall out boy songs were too aggressive (although miss missing you and just one yesterday were very good to listen to while writing this hahaha)
> 
> come visit me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/luffylaws) and [tumblr](https://leiathelight.tumblr.com), or leave me a comment!


End file.
